


The Assistant

by KomaedaClear



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Implied Cannibalism, M/M, Magician Assistants Wizard Line, Magician!P-Goon, hojoon is a chicken, is it cannibalism if it's only implied, is it cannibalism if one of you turned into a chicken, its like 11:35 rn im sorry, manipulative p-goon, nakta is a camel, some fluff but it's angsty, this is shitty i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KomaedaClear/pseuds/KomaedaClear
Summary: P-Goon is a magnificent magician, and Hansol is his newest assistant.
But so many things are wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

> loosely based off of The Assistant by Amanda Palmer oops
> 
> idk man i just wanted some pgoon and hansol action but i also dont ship it at all im sorry

_”You’re the best assistant I have ever had, Jiho. I could never replace you.”_

 

Everyday was a day that Hansol would dread overnight. He would wake up, be forced out of bed by what Sehyuk calls the “wake-up bed”(the bed just flips him onto the floor, which irritates him to no end because it’s supposed to be like one of those movies, but it hurt more than he thought), and have to get right to breakfast to see Sehyuk’s “grand arrival” to the meal. It always involved smoke and having flowers pulled out of his ears. Not that he could complain much about that, the man was just extravagant as always.

 

It had already been three months since Hansol became ML, or Moon Light, the assistant to P-Goon(Park Sehyuk), one of the most famous magicians in the world. However, what he was famous for was his “torture nights”, where his magic tricks involved torture methods on his assistants. It was all an illusion, of course. Sehyuk loved his assistants. Especially Hansol. The magician always treated Hansol with kindness and love, as though he was the only person who existed at this time.

 

Three months, and already Sehyuk was pushing Hansol to do one of these torture routines. Every assistant he ever had, he would wait a few months before doing the torture nights. These torture shows would be once a week after they begun. Hansol never knew the actual names of these past assistants, and was always told that “the past doesn’t matter when the present is much more handsome”. He never questioned his safety in any of Sehyuk’s shows. Never questioned why the others had left.

 

Today, when Hansol narrowly avoids being thrown onto the floor by, well, rolling onto the floor by himself, a paper airplane flew itself into his ear. Weird, but not as weird as what he has seen. He sat up, pulling the plane out, and read the note that Sehyuk had written.

 

Dear ML,  
My beautiful assistant! My love for you is as endless as the fountain of youth. You know i’d never hurt you, right? I love you. Please, come down quickly! I have a surprise for you.  
Love, The Magnificent P-Goon

 

Of course, Hansol’s heart flew as he read the note. He may or may not have a crush on the magician, but that was irrelevant. He folded the paper up and put it in his side drawer, opening his dresser and finding suitable clothes.

 

The place where the two stayed was in a barn, and he slept up in the loft. Sehyuk had added more wood to make the floor extend across the top of the building, creating an entire room all itself. Far off to the front of the barn on this top floor was all of the boxes containing props, tools, and costumes, as well as much more that Hansol has not bothered to check for. On his dresser was scattered makeup, all colours of the rainbow, and his drawers contained extravagant clothes and accessories. For breakfast he was always required to wear something simple, although for Sehyuk’s grand entrances the magician never wore something so simple. A waistcoat, dress shirt, dress pants, and tall black boots were the standard outfit that Hansol wore, and he began his descent from the loft.

 

In the actual barn itself, there were horse stalls that contained even more boxes, and a table that extended to both ends of the barn. In one stall, was a camel. Nakta. Rumour was that Sehyuk turned an audience member(a Yooncheol, why would Hansol remember that?) into Nakta, but that was all rumours. Rumours, rumours, rumours.

 

“Good morning, Nakta!” Hansol greeted cheerfully, patting the camel on the nose. He just huffed in response, chewing on hay. Hansol grinned. The silent beast was a great listener, Hansol’s favourite company. His least favourite was sitting on the table, clucking away as he picked at a plate of peas. Hansol could never understand why the chicken only ever ate from one plate, never picking off his Sehyuk’s, but he guessed it was just training. “Hey, Hojoon,” he greeted the chicken nonchalantly. It clucked up at him, then continued eating.

 

Hansol sat down across from the chicken, to the right of the chair at the head of the table, awaiting his magician’s entrance.

 

But there was none.

 

Instead, Sehyuk walked in from the front of the barn carrying two plates of omelettes, a large grin on his face. “‘Morning, sunshine!” he sing-songs. He was wearing a large black cape which hid his clothes, and his hair was a bright pink. Hansol quite liked this colour, it matched his perfectly. The older set the plates down on the table and sat in his own seat, humming peacefully. He folded his black-velvet gloved hands on the table and stared at Hansol for a good few seconds before speaking again.  
“Hansol, sunshine, it’s been three months since I took you under my wing. Every second with you is the best second of my life. But,” he took a deep breath, but his smile widened, “it’s time we stepped it up a notch. You’re familiar with my torture routine, correct?”

 

Of course Hansol was. What he has seen of these routines was very realistic, the past assistants played the part perfectly. He knew they were always unhurt, of course. Sehyuk has also been asking him about doing the routine for two weeks now. Today was different, though. It felt like a real, serious question, doing the routine. So Hansol nodded.

 

Sehyuk leaned closer, as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “You know they’re all illusions, right? I want you to do this for me. Please?” His eyes twinkled, and he took Hansol’s hands in his own. “Sunshine?”

 

Hansol wanted to. He wanted to so bad. But although he _knew_ the performance was all faked, he remember it looked so real. He was afraid. He was so, so afraid, but he trusted Sehyuk more than anything else.

 

His eyes caught the chicken looking at him before he replied. “Yes, of course, i’ll do the routine. I’ll do all of them.”

 

This made Sehyuk smile the biggest smile he has ever seen, and also the warmest.

 

 

_Jiho held the bandana to his side, trying to stop the blood, but it wouldn’t stop. The fabric was too thin. He didn’t know what to do._

_Sehyuk was beside him in an instant as he cried out in pain yet again._

_“Hey, muffin, you okay?” he cooed._

_No. Jiho wasn’t okay._ You did this, _he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Not when the magician’s eyes were so full of warmth and love. He choked on a sob. He didn’t want Sehyuk to touch him. To be near him._

_Sehyuk pressed his hands into Jiho’s side, pressing a kiss to his temple._

_“You did great tonight, muffin. Just a few more years of this, okay? Then we can get our own place, other than this stinky old barn, okay? I love you so much, muffin.”_

 

 

Hansol held his breath, stuck in the guillotine. Earlier he drank a “potion” Sehyuk had given him, saying it would “numb his senses” and allow him to “last through the night”. He shouldn’t really trust those words, but when it came from Sehyuk, what could he do?

 

This magic act was only practiced up to this point. Sehyuk never does the acts fully in practice, leaving it up to improvisation. Hansol was just told to hold his breath, close his eyes, and when he hits the floor, smile. Never to open his eyes.

 

So his eyes were closed now. Sehyuk was saying his words of magic now, but all Hansol could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He may regret agreeing to this. His first act was the guillotine act, where his head would roll, and he would smile at the audience, and be juggled along with knives like this was a circus show and not a magic act. He’s seen this many times in the recorded videos he’s watched. He just didn’t know _how_ it worked

 

He held his breath as soon as he heard Sehyuk say his final words, and there was a sudden pain in his neck and his hit the floor with a thud and everyone was laughing and he knew he wasn’t bleeding, but he was worried. But he wasn’t allowed to open his eyes and oh _god_ it hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt and he was smiling but he couldn’t stop and it was numb but it hurt at the same time.

 

 

_”Byungjoo! How’s my angel doing?”_

_Byungjoo looked up from his concoction and smiled at the magician. His face was hidden behind his blank mask, probably already finished coming up with a new act._

_“I’m fine, Sehyuk. Just finished this simultaneous numbing and healing agent you asked for!” Byungjoo held up the sparkling clear liquid. He made the recipe himself. It would allow Sehyuk to dismember whoever drank this and put them back together, within the 2 hours limit it had of course. The numbing would allow him to follow his magician’s instructions perfectly, even with the onslaught of pain._

_He wasn’t sure why he agreed to this in the first place. He hated pain._

 

 

The fourth time this week Hansol had to clean up his own blood. He didn’t want to think about how much there was this time. He didn’t want to think at all.

 

These weren’t illusions. These were real. He knew because he felt all of the pain. Yet he still did it, because after every time he finished cleaning, Sehyuk would be there to cuddle up with him and whisper words of encouragement to him, actually _kissing_ his forehead.

 

He never did this before.

 

It was either not do the torture acts and having to end up leaving, or endure the pain and be rewarded in love.

 

He wanted love. Sehyuk was in love with him, like he was with his magician. _His_ magician. He loved him. He loved him.

 

He always had to repeat this over and over after every act. At this point he wasn’t even sure which of them he was referring to anymore.

 

Hojoon the chicken eyed him from a chair, picking up stale popcorn.

 

Hansol huffed. “What are _you_ looking at?” he snapped drearily. Hojoon just continued to eat the popcorn bits and staring at him. Hansol sighed and continued to mop up the blood. He wanted to throw up. He was sick of this. Sick of the blood, sick of the card tricks, sick of the _lies_. He was sick.

 

 

“Sunshine, you look down? Are you okay?” Sehyuk cooed. Hansol didn’t go down for dinner this time. He was sick. He felt like throwing up.

 

He didn’t look up as Sehyuk laid beside him, spooning from behind. Maybe he secretly wanted this to happen. He craved the attention, the love.

 

Sometimes, it was like Sehyuk could read his mind.

 

“You just wanted your cuddles, didn’t you?” he whispered into Hansol’s ear. He pressed a kiss behind his ear, wrapping his arms around the younger. “Don’t worry, we all want to be held like this. You just get to be held by the best magician ever! I’m so glad you haven’t wanted to stop these acts, sunshine. I knew you craved the pain as much as I hoped so.”

 

Hansol stiffened at this. He didn’t want pain. He just wanted Sehyuk.

 

The magician paid no mind, placing kisses along the back of his neck. “You’re so pretty, sunshine. I love you so much. I would never be able to replace you if you left. Hell, I might just _kill_ myself if you did.” He said these things so softly in contrast to his words.

 

He never said this before.

 

Hansol didn’t know how to feel as the magician nuzzled into his neck like he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb ever. Would Sehyuk actually do that? Hansol didn’t know. He didn’t _want_ to know.

 

 

_”Hojoon, you’re my favourite. I love you. Why would you do this to me?”_

_Hojoon choked back a loud sob. He didn’t know what to do. He was cornered. In his hands he held the voodoo doll of Sehyuk. He didn’t activate it. He forgot, and now Sehyuk has seen him with it and he couldn’t do_ anything _about it._

_“Chickie-poo, why would you do this? Do you want to hurt me?” Even now, Sehyuk’s eyes held warmth, and it made Hojoon’s heart hurt like nothing else. “I love you. I’ve given you everything. This is how you repay me? With voodoo magic?” He frowned sadly, voice wavering. He stepped closer to Hojoon, the assistant’s back pressed against the wall and oh god Sehyuk’s eyes turned so dark and scary and he was_ fucked _._

_“I l-love you t-too,” Hojoon sobbed. Sehyuk stepped closer, hand coming up to rest on Hojoon’s cheek._

_“Baby, if you loved me, why would you try to hurt me?”_

 

 

Hansol always found it ironic how his stage name was Moon Light, but his nickname Sehyuk calls him by was sunshine. “You’re the light of my life,” he would reason when Hansol would ask, and he had accepted it.

 

Now, when he heard the nickname, he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

 

Two months already. He was still cleaning up his blood, and puke because now he was too sick to look at his own blood. He threw up every time now.

 

He couldn’t leave. Sehyuk _needs_ him. Hansol needs Sehyuk. They needed eachother. Hansol just couldn’t help but wish for the acts to stop.

 

“Sunshine, i’m going shopping for a while! Look after everything while i’m gone, love you!” Sehyuk called from somewhere above. Hansol held onto his mop and closed his eyes. When did he start to fear the magician?

 

This was also the first time Sehyuk left right after a show. It was well past midnight. There was a first for everything, he guessed.

 

He looked up and saw Hojoon staring at him, no longer pecking away at leftover popcorn from tonight’s show.

 

“What do you want?” he mumbled out, still gripping tightly onto the broom handle. He wanted to cry. A month ago, Sehyuk had stopped cuddling with him after shows, and had gotten more violent. He never knew what he would wake up to.

 

Hojoon clucked up at him then chickened on over to grab onto Hansol’s pant leg and try to drag him.

 

“Not now, Hojoon, okay? If I don’t get this cleaned up, he’ll-” Hansol can’t finish his sentence, so he let a tear fall instead. Not now. He needed to clean.

 

Hojoon squawked at him, unusual behavior for the chicken. He continued to try to drag Hansol away, and the boy sighed. The chicken probably wanted food other than popcorn for once. Hansol sighed and let the mop drop to the floor, and followed the chicken outside the tent towards the barn. It was a 10 minute walk away, and entirely dark inside. Hojoon led him into a stall, and pecked away at a box hidden under other boxes.

 

Hansol never looked through all of Sehyuk’s boxes. Not only was there too many to count, but he never had a reason to.

 

Except now, apparently.

 

He pushed the other boxes back, and they fell back against the wall. Hojoon clucked happily(Hansol figured he’s been around the chicken long enough to know it had emotions other than hungry), and the boy lifted the lid, gasping out as he saw what was inside.

 

Dusty old clothes, glasses, a book on voodoo magic, a voodoo doll, and pins. Hojoon flapped up and tried to pick the book up to hand it to Hansol, and the boy took it, eyeing it carefully. Then he was handed the doll. It looked exactly like Sehyuk.

 

 

_”Sehyuk, p-p-please, t-tell me w-what you d-did to t-them,” Jiho stuttered out, tears falling from his eyes. He held Hojoon to his chest, as well as holding up a diary with the name “Byungjoo” written on it. Sehyuk tsked, and shook his head sadly._

_“Jiho, baby-”_

_“Don’t call me that, p-please, you d-don’t have the r-right a-a-anym-m-more,” Jiho sobbed._

_“Byungjoo tried to leave me. I couldn’t let him. I loved him, but he still tried to leave. So I did what I had to do: I killed him. Hojoon here, I loved him, but he didn’t love me, and he tried to hurt me, so i turned him into the one thing I knew he was: a chicken.” Sehyuk shrugged, as though it didn’t matter._

_Jiho continued crying, cuddling Hojoon into him. “A-and Nakta?”_

_“Yooncheol, you mean?” Sehyuk chuckled lightly. “Snotty brat, that one. Thought he could sneak into my dressing room. He saw Hojoon. I needed to deal with him.” He reached over, but Jiho pulled away quickly, sobbing even harder now._

_Hojoon just let himself be held, knowing what Jiho was going through. Knowing he couldn’t stop it from happening._

_“I’m disappointed, Jiho. I thought you were better than that.”_

_“I-I’m s-sorry, i’m sorry, i-i-i’m-” He choked up on his words as Sehyuk stood up, that big knife glinting from his hand, and held Hojoon tighter._

 

 

Hansol cried that night, voodoo doll, book, and pins in his side dresser. He cried until he heard Sehyuk come up into the loft, humming a soft, sweet song.

 

“Sunshine! You’ve been working so hard, i’ve decided to give you a present!” he called as he reached the top. He turned on the lamp on the side dresser and frowned down at Hansol, who was hugging his knees and crying. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He sat down and pushed Hansol’s pink hair back.

 

“N-nothing,” he muttered out, wiping the tears away from his face. “What’s the surprise?”

 

Sehyuk’s face lit up, and he leaned in, brushing his lips against his ear. “Something i’ve been waiting for, for a long time. Ever since I met you.” He nipped at Hansol’s earlobe, making the younger squirm. “I love you, baby. You’re my only sunshine. I want to reward you for being such a good boy.” His hands were roaming towards Hansol’s thighs and he wanted to scream. He didn’t want this.

 

“No,” he mumbled out. “N-no, I d-don’t want t-t-this.”

 

“Oh, but sunshine, of course you do.” His mouth moved to suck at Hansol’s neck. “You said you loved me. That means you want this, you’ve always wanted this.” A hand reached Hansol’s crouch and he let out a low, small sob, trying to push the magician away.

 

“P-please, don’t, please,” he pleaded. Why wouldn’t Sehyuk just _listen_?

 

“Sunshine, don’t make this hard,” Sehyuk growled into his skin, pushing him down into the bed, moving Hansol’s legs down so that he could press his crotch into the younger’s. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.

 

Hansol yelped when Sehyuk bit down, hard, and he cried harder. He didn’t want this. But he loved Sehyuk, he did. He wanted to keep Sehyuk happy. But the voodoo doll in the side dresser was a weight on his mind. He didn’t know what to think. Did he even know what he wanted at this point?

 

 

“Baby, you were so good for me,” Sehyuk cooed softly, tucking his dick back into his pants. Hansol continued crying into the pillow, feeling like his ass was ripped by a chainsaw. He knew there was more blood he would have to clean up, and he almost threw up at the thought of it.

 

Sehyuk left the loft, and Hojoon hurried up the steps, hopping onto the bed to snuggle into Hansol. He kept crying, and he was embarrassed. Crying in front of a chicken. Who knew?

 

He was in so much pain, though. Sehyuk didn’t prepare him, and was ruthless, and insulted him throughout the act. It was like he was a different person.

 

Hansol didn’t know if he loved a man like that anymore.

 

But he did. He loved Sehyuk still. Forever and ever. Forever. Forever.

 

 

He couldn’t do it anymore. The weight of the voodoo doll and pins were heavy in his pocket. He was supposed to be split in three again. Again. This has happened before. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t spend his night cleaning then crying himself to sleep.

 

Love is blind, they say. He is very blind.

 

Sehyuk had his mask and just finished his disappearing act, becoming a whole deck of cards. Hansol applauded, leading the audience along with a smile.

 

He feels fake.

 

“And now, for my next act-”

 

“Wait.” Hansol held up his hand, shaking. If they liked seeing him being torn apart, the audience was definitely going to love this. He reached into his pocket as Sehyuk turned to him, clearly questioning what the fuck Hansol was doing. He took out the pins first, presenting them to the audience, then took out the voodoo doll.  
“For my own personal trick, I will be using our precious P-Goon as a puppet for my pin trick,” he said with a wavering grin. If he could see any skin, then Sehyuk would probably be going pale right then.

 

Sehyuk stepped forward as Hansol took out the first pin and positioned it on the doll’s right arm. He looked up where Sehyuk’s eyes would be in his mask, and stuck the pin in.

 

Sehyuk howled in pain as he gripped his arm. The audience just went wild, and Hansol swore he could hear someone saying in his ear, “Stick a pin in it! Stick a pin in it!” in a chant, and he stuck a pin in the right leg.

 

He kept sticking pins in and Sehyuk was rolling on the floor in pain and Hansol felt so _good_ because fuck Sehyuk, fuck the man who tortured him and others for months, fuck the man who forced himself onto him. Fuck him.

 

By the end of the show, when Hansol dismissed everyone, Sehyuk had passed out from the pain, and he seemed to be bleeding from every orifice. Hansol was happy. He was happy. He was so fucking happy, he was crying. He hated Sehyuk. He hated even more how much his heart clenched in pain as he took a knife and stabbed repeatedly into Sehyuk. He hated how he cried. He hated how he apologized and kissed Sehyuk and regretted ever doing this.

 

He hated Hojoon.

 

 

And now, he hated the taste of chicken.


End file.
